


In a snake's shadow

by captainhurricane



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7299838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhurricane/pseuds/captainhurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miller can't control his anger. But David is used to it. Foxhound-days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a snake's shadow

For all their fierceness, for all their cold, hard training, the recruits are still just young men and women. And they are a curious bunch, like pups taking their first steps in the world, just beginning to sharpen their teeth and claws. And their Master is one of the fiercest of all: nobody knows what he’s thinking, all they know is that they don’t want to be on the other end of his ire. 

So it’s with pity they look upon David when Master Miller marches out of his office and barks a command to follow to David. The recruits don’t dare to whisper among themselves but the amount of silent gazing is almost as loud as any speech. It’s easy to see that Master Miller is angry, his usual harshness now even sharper, striking them deeper than any blade. 

“Uh,” says David, chances a glance at his comrades but they merely cough and go back to sparring. A feeling flutters in David’s chest. Does the Master know? Has he guessed what secrets David has, things that go beyond to what they have already done in the dark of the afterhours: bent over desks, kneeling under them, moaning so loud the very walls will hear them even after David has gone back to bed. Ears burning, groin throbbing and never telling a soul what goes on. 

“Yes, Master,” he says instead and follows the fuming Master. 

The door slamming behind him is like the door to his tomb. 

“Is everything-” David is promptly slammed against said door, two rows of perfect white teeth biting on his sweaty, exposed shoulder. Despite his tank and sweats, David might as well be naked. It’s with such determination that Master’s prosthetic hand curls in the front of his tank and rips it open. 

“Master,” David tries again, his heart thump-thump-thumping its way through his chest, his hands immediately on Master’s biceps. David’s mouth is dry, his legs falling open. He’s a Pavlov’s dog, a few blowjobs here and there, a few times with the Master’s dick inside of him and he’s like this, breathless and flushing. 

Instead of an answer, Master growls and bites harder, draws blood. David gets the hint and shuts up, wincing when Master pinches a nipple. 

“If you are absolutely quiet then I’ll maybe reward you,” Master murmurs, his breath hot against David neck, his knee pushing against David’s groin in a way that sends hot flashes through David’s body. 

“Ah,” David stammers, remembers to bite down his words just in time. They have done things, have secrets between them but they have always been when it’s just the two of them, when the Master lets David call him Miller and calls David his boy with a voice that sends David over the edge every time. David rolls his hips and chokes when Master’s prosthetic fingers curl around his throat, squeezing. 

Master says nothing, instead turns him around and grinds his face against the door. David doesn’t already expect the sound of unzipping, of feeling Master’s hands pulling his pants and briefs down, palming his ass. 

David bites his lip and swallows, pushes himself against the Master. 

“Fuck,” Master groans and he sounds broken, like he’s the one splitting apart from the inside. A click, a curse, something opening and David bites hard to keep his whimper inside himself. Master’s thumbs are slicked up and thick but they are pushing in, spreading David’s entrance. 

“Fuck _yes,_ David,” Master growls and he shifts, his clothes rustle and before David can ask, Master is pushing a wet tongue between the rubbing thumbs, spitting and spitting and letting out animalistic, angry snarls. David burns from the inside out, he gets his wrist to his mouth and bites, chews his skin broken but his whole body is shaking. 

“Master,” David grumbles, squeezing his eyes closed. Master hits his ass and continues, eats his ass with such fervour that David is threatening to explode. “Condom,” David manages and has to shove his wrist to his mouth again as Master jams his tongue deep in quick succession, pushing two more fingers with it, fucking him open like he wants to make it all the more harder for David. 

“You need to work on your ass more, it’s a little loose,” the Master murmurs but he’s kneading the round buttocks like he can’t get enough so David isn’t offended. His head buzzes, his body is on fire and he pushes himself against the Master again, pushes his free hand under his sweat-damp tank and pinches and pulls at his own nipple, gropes his own pecs. 

A packet is ripped open and then The Master is standing up, every sound and movement he makes incredibly loud in David’s ears. He swallows, looks behind himself when there’s no intrusion at first, when only Master’s hands have returned to his ass. 

“Oh, David,” the Master says and glances down. His hair has gone free of its ponytail, his glasses out of sight. David is struck by his sad, angry mentor once more, stilling in his movements. 

“Master, please,” David murmurs, reaches behind himself, finds his asshole slick with spit and lube and whimpers. Master lets out an audible groan and then he moves, pushes David down and pushes himself in. Naturally, no matter the preparation, no matter the speed, it’s not easy at first but David is nothing but flexible in all the right places and he keeps his legs spread, his palms against the door, his forehead between them as he pants and tries not to cry out. 

“You have-” comes Master’s breathless, choked up voice, “no fucking idea-” he thrusts, pushes, pushes, pushes and his palm is hitting David’s ass, slapping it like that would make it easier. David chews on his lip and goes back to biting on his abused wrist when a moan threatens to break out. Master’s hands grip his hips and there- there. David trembles, his legs unsteady already and Master hasn’t even begun yet. 

“Fffu _uuck-”_ comes out as a trembling wail through David’s lips when Master doesn’t wait for him to adjust, to get used to it and just starts thrusting. Slow at first but soon he’s forceful, his fingers pressing bruises against David’s skin, his hips meeting David’s in a rapid rhythm. David wavers, tries to stifle his noises to the best of his abilities but Master’s rhythm becomes brutal, driving David against the door. 

“S-sl-” David stutters, claws at the door, tries to keep himself upright but Master doesn’t slow down, doesn’t show mercy. What had angered him earlier flares back intensely, makes him bite hard down on David’s neck again. His prosthetic has curled around David’s cock, pumping him in an irregular rhythm. David can’t do anything but hold on, try to keep himself in one piece as the Master fucks him through the Master’s own orgasm then kneels in front of David to suck him to completion- fingers where his cock just was. 

David falls down immediately when Master’s grip on him leaves. David’s heart beats fiercely, his limbs heavy as lead, his tank top soaked through with sweat. 

“Oh,” he says. Master shifts away, tucks himself back into his pants. 

“You can use my shower,” Master says and turns his back. David’s body burns but his mind burns brighter.


End file.
